


I Think I Might Be Sinking

by osaki_nana_707



Series: dads!Harringrove [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 1990s, Billy has a Big Gay Crush on Steve, Dad!Billy, Dad!Steve, Kid Fic, M/M, Nicotine Withdrawal, Nightmares, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osaki_nana_707/pseuds/osaki_nana_707
Summary: Steve has to go out of town for the day which leaves Billy in charge of the girls.





	I Think I Might Be Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the stories in order or some things might not make sense.
> 
> Thanks so much for the positive response on these fics! I've been really enjoying writing them.

**I Think I Might Be Sinking**

 

Billy is three days off of his cigarettes and about to climb the damned walls.

He’d promised Hopper and Hopper had given him a job. Billy hadn’t taken it all that seriously at first, but on his first day Hopper had leaned right in and _smelled_ him and then _confiscated_ his cigarettes like he was a goddamn middle schooler.

At least Hopper had looked distressed about this too, mumbling something like, “Good God, I’ve become Mr. Cooper,” as he went back to his office, and he hadn’t fired him on the spot which was good. He may have never been the err… “office type” but Billy picked up on everything relatively fast. Hopper had called him a fast learner. Billy thinks it’s the easiest job he’s ever had.

Or it would be easy if he could start off his morning with a smoke, finish off his meals with a smoke, enjoy his breaktimes with a smoke, have a smoke before bed, have a smoke when he’s angry or frustrated or tense—which is basically all the time. Okay, so he smokes a lot. _Smoked_ a lot. He hasn’t smoked in three fucking days and he sort of wants to die.

It’s Saturday now, and he’s already missing work. He’s off on weekends which is great for spending time with Katie, but Billy can hardly see straight he’s so wound up, and he has nothing to distract himself with. He’s been chewing, mostly—pen caps and toothpicks and fingernails. Katie has… noticed.

“Dad,” she says over breakfast. “Biting your nails is bad.”

He’s gnawing on a thumbnail, or at least what’s left of one, while he reads the paper and ignores the cereal getting soggy in his bowl. “Huh?”

“It’s bad. Mrs. Simmons gets onto us if we bite our nails in class.”

“Mrs. Simmons can fuck off,” Billy grunts, then remembers who he’s talking to. He’s already gotten angry phone calls from Hannah’s school about her cursing. “Don’t repeat that.”

“What? Fuck?”

“Yeah, don’t say fuck.”

“But… it’s fun.”

“I—I know it’s fun, Katie, but you can’t say shit like that around other people or you’ll get in trouble… Don’t say shit either.”

She considers this, then nods in agreement, digging her spoon into her cereal. “Dad?”

“Yeah?” He realizes he’s chewing on his thumbnail again and promptly stops.

She grins, looking at his beat-up nails.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll behave,” Billy mumbles, reaching out across the table to ruffle her still slept-in curls.

“Eww, your hands are all spitty!” she cries out, but she’s laughing when she does it. Her laugh makes him forget how much he wants a cigarette, at least for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Billy says, dragging her over into his lap and holding her until she stops squirming and giggling. “I’ll stop biting my nails if you stop saying the bad words, alright? Every time I bite my nails, you get a pass and can say whatever word you want. Square?”

“Square,” she says and lifts her little head to kiss the side of his chin. He kisses her cheek and lets her go, cleans up what’s left of breakfast and proceeds to keep missing his after-breakfast smoke.

He makes it about four curse words from Katie before he gets a phone call, and by then it’s afternoon, so overall he thinks he’s doing pretty good.

It’s Steve. Billy recognizes the voice instantly. He gave Steve his number the night after he’d gotten bitched at for being late (justifiably, but it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it), but Steve hadn’t called him even once until now. Hawkins is a small place. Now that Steve knows where he works, he generally knows where to find him if he needs him, and Steve never needs _him_. Billy’s the one always needing something, whether it’s advice or a swift kick in the ass. It makes the slightly breathless, “Hey,” on the other end of the line all the weirder, makes Billy’s heart do that weird flip-flop thing he doesn’t like to admit it does.

“Harrington,” Billy says, playing it cool.

“Fuck!” Katie shouts delightedly, and Billy realizes he’s chewing his pinky finger nail. He drops his hand to the side, fingers drumming against his thigh.

“Sounds like you’re having a fun afternoon,” Steve quips. Asshole.

“Just playing a game,” Billy says, smiling despite himself. “What can I do for you, amigo?”

“Ahh…” Steve hesitates. Billy can picture him, twirling the phone cord around his finger, breathing in through his teeth, trying to decide if he should even ask, though it’s got to be the only reason he’s called. “Well, I needed to ask…”

For a brief, weird second, Billy panics. He doesn’t do it out loud, but his heart starts thump-thump-thumping and he thinks that Steve might be asking him to dinner or something because Steve absolutely would do something like that. Call someone up and ask them out like they’re still in fucking high school. Billy knows, he _knows_ that he kissed Steve in the car on Parents’ Day, okay? He did that on his own. That doesn’t mean he’s _into_ him though, alright? Billy’s been with men but never been in _relationships_ with men, and he doesn’t intend to start now, not in small-town Hawkins where everyone has an Opinion.

“I need a favor,” Steve says, and Billy realizes he stopped breathing for a moment.

“What kind of favor?” Billy asks.

“Can you watch Hannah for me today? Dustin called me, said he was having an _emergency_ at school and he needs my help specifically, apparently, so I gotta drive into the city. Normally I’d take her with me but, like, Dustin’s in this play? He says it’s not for kids, and like, it’s just dress rehearsal, but I sort of agreed that I’d stay and watch after I help him out, so I don’t want Hannah to be exposed to anything unsavory—”

Billy really doesn’t need the explanation, but he finds himself grinning anyway. “Nothing unsavory but you’re putting her in my charge?” There’s a chuckle in his voice. He can feel it bubbling up in him. He kind of hates it, kind of loves it.

“You’re not so bad,” Steve says, and Billy can hear his grin right back. His heart does the flip-flop thing again.

“You sure about that, Harrington?” Billy can’t help but push it. He’s pushed it with Steve since the day they met. He thinks his pushes are a little friendlier these days, at least.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

(He also just might like to hear Steve say he’s not so bad).

“It’s fine, Harrington. Just bring her over whenever,” he says, shoving his fidgeting hand into his back pocket. “I’m not working today, so it’s not like I got anything else to do.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, then, “How’s that going, by the way? The job.”

“Oh, um—” Billy falters, fuck. He’s usually smoother than this. He just didn’t expect Steve to _care_. Why would he? His only reason for interacting with Billy is because their daughters are friends. “It’s… it’s good.”

Isn’t it?

“Good,” Steve says. “I’m glad. Hop said that you were picking up on it pretty quick.”

“You talked to him about me?”

It’s Steve’s turn to falter. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I mean—I saw him at the grocery store. It just uh… came up in conversation. You know.”

Billy’s smiling so much his face hurts. It’s noticeable enough that Katie’s stopped her playing and is watching him over the back of the couch. Shit.

“Yeah,” Billy says, trying to steel his face into something more neutral. He usually can. Right now, he can’t. “I get it. Um. So, yeah, whenever is fine. We’ll be here.”

“Cool, cool,” Steve says. “I’ve just got an appointment to go to, and then I’ll drop her off. I’ll give you a call if anything changes.”

“Sounds good.”

“And hey, Billy. Thanks.”

God, he sounds so genuine when he says it. Like he means it. Like Billy did something that’s actually helpful. He’s still not used to it. Not used to being helpful. Not used to people being grateful for it.

“It’s—it’s no problem,” Billy mumbles. “See you later.”

After a brief goodbye, he hangs up. He looks at Katie, but she’s not looking at him anymore. She’s folded her legs up and turned to the television where some cartoon is playing. She’s been calmer lately.

“You alright with Hannah hanging out over here today?” Billy asks, as if Katie doesn’t want to spend every waking second with Hannah as it is. As if she doesn’t talk his ear off about her constantly.

Katie grins over the edge of the couch at him. “Yes!”

Billy flops down next to her, props his feet up on the coffee table. He almost sticks his fingernails into his mouth but manages to catch it this time, instead spreading his arms out over the back of the couch so that he can drum away at the fabric instead. “Maybe we can go to the park or something. Supposed to be sunshine today, I think.”

Katie curls up against his side, eyes glued to the television again. “Is Harrington coming too?”

“Not this time. He’s gotta take care of some stuff.”

Katie hums but doesn’t say anything for right now.

It’s only about an hour and a half later that Steve’s car rolls up into Billy’s driveway. He’s traded his BMW from back then for a fucking Honda Accord, and he’s exactly as lame in it as Billy expects. Billy leans against the doorframe of the house as Steve gets out of the car and—

He’s wearing fucking _glasses_.

He looks good in them too, the fucker. Nerdy but… good nerdy. He definitely looks uncomfortable in them though, like he’s waiting for the laugh track to pick up. Billy raises his eyebrows, hands in his pockets, and doesn’t comment on them, even after Hannah is out of the backseat and running towards the house with her brand-new sunglasses on. Billy thinks ten years have at least given him enough wisdom to know that glasses are a really stupid thing to make fun of someone for. He’s pretty sure if he wanted to tease Steve, there were plenty of other places he could poke at.

“Hey, Harrington,” Billy says, and he’s actually kind of grateful that Steve’s feeling so insecure because it makes it easier for Billy not to. Max has let him stay in her house, which he’s grateful for, but compared to Steve’s place it probably looks like garbage. The place is tiny, with only one bedroom which actually belongs to Max. Katie sleeps in there for now, while Billy takes up on the fold out sofa-bed. Steve’s place isn’t humongous by any means (at least smaller than his parents’ place), but it’s no secret that Steve’s a lot better off financially than Billy ever has been and probably ever will be. He’s just glad he’s making enough money now to help cover the rent costs while Max is away. He’s pretty sure she would straight up murder him if he lost her house before she got home for the summer.

“Hey,” Steve says awkwardly. Hannah rushes right by Billy and into the house. She clearly doesn’t care about the size of the place or the number of the rooms.

“Get everything taken care of at your uh… appointment?” Billy asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says, adjusting the glasses self-consciously. Billy’s heart does another flip-flop. Why does it keep _doing_ that? “Do I look alright?”

“You’re asking me if you look alright.”

“Yes, that is what I’m doing,” Steve says, putting his hands on his hips. He looks slightly annoyed, huffy, regretful of asking. Billy has to fight not to start laughing because he knows Steve will take it the wrong way.

“You look like a dad, but then, you looked like that before.”

Steve pouts a little, but he’s pretending he isn’t. “I was kind of looking for something a little more specific.”

Billy doesn’t know why Steve cares about his opinion. He says as much.

“Because… it’s like you said,” Steve says, looking everywhere but at Billy’s face. “You’re the uh… the ‘hot dad’ at the PTA, so I just…”

“Wanna make sure you don’t look like a fucking dork? Well, I don’t know, Steve. Green’s not really your color.”

Steve’s arms cross over his chest. “Hilarious. You know I’m talking about the glasses.”

He hasn’t seemed to notice Billy called him _Steve_ instead of _Harrington_ , but Billy certainly does. His first name tastes weird in his mouth, softer and sweeter and more personal.

“It’s kind of funny that you’re fishing for compliments,” Billy says, offering a shit-eating grin, his own personal poker face. “I didn’t even notice them.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m that astute, but I’m not.”

“Says the guy using the word ‘astute’ in a sentence.”

Billy stands up straighter. He feels like his body is lighting up. He’s not sure what it means.

(Well, not anymore sure than he’s willing to admit to himself, anyway).

“You need me to know anything about Hannah before you head out?” Billy asks, changing the subject before he can think about it for too long.

That seems to jog Steve’s memory. He goes back to his Honda and opens the back-passenger door, snagging something out of the backseat. It’s a little blue backpack. He hands it over to Billy without fanfare. “I put some coloring books and stuff in there, and Chunk. I know money’s still kinda tight for you, so I also put some cash in the front pocket. I’m hoping to be back by dinner, but if not, you can use the money to order a pizza or something. Hannah’s not picky.”

Billy pulls one of the little straps over his shoulder. He’s chewing on his thumbnail again, but Katie’s not around so he can get away with it. “I think we’ll manage. Catch you later.”

He feels like he should do more, but all he manages is to clap Steve on the shoulder before going back inside.

“Ladies!” he calls out as soon as he can see Steve’s car pull out of the drive and disappear from the front window.

The two girls appear from somewhere within the little house, standing side by side like little soldiers. Billy isn’t sure why they’re acting like he commands any sort of respect—God knows Katie is more like a buddy to him most days—but he doesn’t hate it.

“What are we gonna do today?” he asks.

Katie immediately has ideas. _The park. Ice cream. Can we go see a movie?_

Billy can’t stop looking at Hannah. He hasn’t really taken the opportunity to do so, has spent next to no time around her at all. Her hair is fluffy and over-styled and she’s got eyes just like Steve. They’re all big and innocent and brown. He can’t help but stare at her because she’s staring at him and he feels like he’s under a fucking microscope, like she’s gonna go running to Steve and telling him _things_ about him.

“Fuck,” Katie says, grinning, and Billy realizes he chewing again. Hannah looks a little scandalized, huffy and pouty just like Steve had been outside. She also looks at Katie like she’s a motherfucking _goddess_.

“Ha ha,” he says flatly. “I think I can manage to take you guys to the park at least. Hannah, you cool with that? This is a democracy, so I need your vote.”

“Okay,” she says delightedly. She really isn’t picky.

“Alright then,” Billy says, handing Hannah her backpack. “I get to pick the music though.”

So, Hannah is introduced to Motley Crue.

She’s kind of wide-eyed in the backseat as they fly down the road in Billy’s Camaro, engine roaring, Vince Neil’s voice belting out, “ _Oh, are you ready girls? Oh, are you ready now? Kickstart my heart, give it a start!_ ” Katie sings along, headbanging next to her. Billy just laughs a little, doesn’t feel bad about it until they’re in the parking lot and remembers that Hannah isn’t his to be messing with. She’s just a kid, one that’s been raised better and more normal than Katie has.

He lets her out of the backseat, trying not to look as guilty as he feels. “You alright, kid?” he asks her.

She looks up at him, slightly terrified, and she says, “It’s so _loud_.”

“Yeah,” Billy says. “It’s pretty loud.”

She climbs out of the car, looking windblown, and he expects that to be the end of it, but then she _grabs his hand_. She _grabs his hand_ and starts tugging him along, and he just follows. Katie is already at the jungle gym, climbing it like it’s Mt. Everest.

“Dad! Look at me! I’m King up here!” she shouts.

“Long Live the King!” Billy shouts back, raising a fist in solidarity. His other hand is still being squeezed by Hannah’s tiny one.

“Mr. Billy,” Hannah says.

“Billy’s fine, kid.”

“Billy,” she corrects, feeling out the word in her lips. Her face brightens a little with the same look she’d given Katie earlier—scandalized but pleased. He imagines a lot of adults don’t let her call them by their first names. “Will you push me on the swings?”

Billy blinks. “Uh. Sure,” he says. “You don’t know how to swing by yourself?”

“I do,” she nods. “It’s more fun when Daddy pushes me though, and Daddy’s not here so… Will you?”

Billy nods and lets her lead him to the swing, lets her pick out exactly which one she wants, lets her smile up at him and scrunch her nose and lets her look so much like fucking _Steve_ and he—

He’s butter. He’s putty. He’s a mess.

He pushes her for a minute or two before Katie comes down from her kingdom and approaches, watching them. He sort of expects her to be jealous because her fire burns so bright, but instead she just watches, curious.

“Katie,” he says, holding out one arm to the unoccupied swing next to Hannah’s. “You want in on this action? I’ve got two arms.”

She smiles and Billy doesn’t know how he doesn’t turn into a pile of mushy goo just from that. He thinks that if Steve were here, he’d laugh his ass off at how _soft_ Big Bad Billy Hargrove has become.

He’s been thinking about Steve a lot lately.

 _A lot_.

He’s not thinking about him right now though. Nope. No sirree.

He’s just focusing on these two girls here and now, pushing them in tandem, watching them giggle and soar upwards and back down again.  The air is still brisk but it’s finally getting warmer out. Indiana doesn’t have the weather that California does, but at least the hint of Spring helps settle Billy’s nerves. In fact, out here like this, it’s the calmest he’s felt in days.

\--

Steve doesn’t get back by dinner, so Billy orders a couple of pizzas. He’s honestly amazed by how much pizza two small girls can pack away.

After dinner, Steve still isn’t there, so Hannah asks to watch _Dirty Dancing_ (which apparently Steve put her copy of in her backpack because Billy sure as hell doesn’t own a copy of that movie). Three-fourths of the way through the movie both girls fall asleep, so Billy carries them back to Max/Katie’s room and puts them to bed, dressing them both in Katie’s pajamas and tucking them in next to each other.

A storm rolls in about nine, and Billy thinks that maybe that’s what’s holding Steve up. He wishes he’d given him a number he could call so he’s not just sitting around and waiting and _thinking_.

He unfolds the sofa bed. He watches television.

He wants a cigarette so bad his teeth hurt.

Steve _still_ isn’t there.

It’s not like he thinks Steve is hurt or whatever. He can handle himself. He just isn’t sure what the hold up is. Was this some kind of karma for Billy showing up late the other day?

He flips the channel. He drums his fingers. He chews on his fingernails.

…and suddenly there’s two eyes staring at him from over the side of the sofa bed.

Fortunately, it’s not Katie there to catch him fingernail biting again. It’s Hannah, sleepy-eyed and carrying Chunk. Billy’s about to ask her what it is she needs, but then she climbs up on the sofa bed, curls up at his side, and closes her eyes.

He’s… not sure what to do with that.

“Uh… Hannah,” he says softly. “What are you doing?”

“Whenever the noises outside make Daddy twitchy, I sleep next to him like this,” she says simply. “It makes him feel better.”

Billy’s silent for a moment. “What makes your Daddy get all twitchy?”

“Daddy gets bad dreams,” she says, snuggling in close. “They make him yell sometimes, but if I’m there, he doesn’t.”

Billy hesitates, then… lets his hand fall gently to the top of her head. Her hair is still stiff with hairspray.

He thinks about Steve, about how he’d looked _haunted_ on Parents’ Day.

_“It’s the kind of shit that makes you sleep with the lights on and carry a baseball bat in your trunk.”_

What had he meant by that? What nightmares plagued Steve that badly? Billy had seen that horror hanging off of him even back in high school, the dark circles under his eyes from nights without sleep. He certainly remembers the bat full of nails that Max had aimed directly at his balls that night that he and Steve had fought. He never did find out quite what the fuck was going on there.

“Do you get bad dreams?” Hannah asks.

Billy stares at the television. “Sometimes,” he says distantly. “Katie gets ‘em more than I do. Do you get bad dreams?”

“Not like Daddy does…” She’s quiet for a moment or two, and then she’s sniffing. Her little body trembles. “Where is Daddy?” she asks, voice wobbling. “He’s outside in the thunder and he’s probably scared…”

Billy reacts on instinct, hauling her up into his arms. She starts boo-hooing, and her crying is so much softer than Katie’s, like she doesn’t want to disturb anyone with it. He feels a deep, clenching pain in his chest. He wants to make it better. He’s not sure how.

“It’ll be alright. He’ll be here,” Billy says, rocking her slightly, just like he’s done with Katie during her nightmares. If it wasn’t raining so hard, he’d put them in the car and drive them around. Since he can’t do that, he just sings instead.

“ _Spent my days with a woman unkind, smoked my stuff and drank all my wine… Made up my mind to make a new start, going to California with an aching in my heart…_ ”

She buries her face into his chest, and _God_ , where the _fuck_ is Steve? He and his stupid glasses and stupid hair and stupid face had better be okay or Billy’s certain he’s just going to fucking… going to…

He doesn’t get to finish the thought.

There’s a knock on the door.

Billy gets up and takes Hannah back to bed before he goes and answers the door. It’s not like he thinks anything _bad_ is going to be on the other side of that door, but… well… He’s not going to risk it.

He opens the door and there’s Steve, and Billy yanks him into the house and damn near slams him against the wall. “Where the _hell_ have you been?”

“I’m sorry, I… I had some trouble in the storm. I couldn’t get to a phone,” Steve says.

Billy wants to keep being pissed, but the flood of relief extinguishes the flames of anger. The wind howls outside and the thunder rumbles. The lights flicker. Steve is clearly spooked.

“Whatever,” Billy mumbles. “Just hang around for a bit. This shit should blow over in about an hour. The girls are in bed.”

Steve watches Billy go into the kitchen, hasn’t moved when Billy returns with a cup of coffee. “It’s decaf,” he says, handing it over, along with a towel from the laundry room.

“Thanks,” Steve says and finally comes off the wall, moving to sit on… well, on the sofa bed because there’s nowhere else for him to sit. “I really am sorry. Dustin needed some help repairing the costumes for the show, which apparently I’m the only person he knows who _can_ , and I stayed to watch the rehearsal. It went longer than expected. Then he asked me to come out with him and the cast for dinner, and the kid’s really persuasive if you give him a chance, so I did. It’s just… been a while since I’ve been out, y’know? I just… lost track of time. Then, when I was driving back the storm hit, so it slowed me down even more.”

Billy doesn’t sit on the bed because Steve is on the bed and that’s a little too close. The television is reflecting off of the lenses of Steve’s glasses. Billy watches his lips press against the mouth of the cup, watches him take a swallow. Billy licks his lips.

“It’s fine,” Billy says, voice just a touch more strained than he’d planned it. He really, really wants a cigarette. “Don’t worry about it.”

“She wasn’t any trouble, was she?” Steve looks up and, oh, fuck, those glasses make his big, doe eyes look even bigger.

“Hannah? No, she was perfect,” Billy says. “She’s… she’s a good kid.”

Steve smiles, looking down into his mug.

“She was worried about you though,” Billy says. “Said you were probably scared. Out in the storm.”

Steve’s smile fades. He waits.

Billy puts his hands in his pockets to keep from chewing on them. “She said you have nightmares. That true?”

“Everyone has nightmares.”

“Steve,” he says insistently. Steve notices this time that it’s his first name and not his last.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It really is.”

“It’s been bothering you ten fucking years, Steve. Not sure if that’s nothing.”

Steve looks up at him, lips parting slightly. Billy wants to—

No. Not now.

“I’ve seen that look on your face before,” Billy says. “Maybe I am more _astute_ than I give myself credit for because I remember. Back in school. And in the car at Parents’ Day. And now. So… what is it?”

Steve barks out a watery laugh. “A bad dream, Billy. That’s all it is. A ten-year-old bad dream.”

“What happens in the dream?”

Steve blinks slowly. He doesn’t look spooked anymore, just tired. Billy wants to tell him to lay down and get some fucking sleep.

“It’s just like what you said is all,” Steve finally says after a minute. “You think when your demons die, you’ll stop being afraid. Then you find out it’s not that easy, right?”

Billy takes a step closer. He still doesn’t sit down. The storm outside seems to have let up a little bit.

“You wanna talk about it?” Billy asks because he’s trying. He’s trying with Katie, so he can try with Steve too.

“Not really, not… not now,” Steve says. “Maybe some other time.”

Steve gets up, and Billy has stepped close enough that they’re nearly nose to nose when he does. Steve seems alarmed by this. Perhaps his depth perception’s all screwed up now that he can actually see.

“You—” Steve starts, eyes drifting from Billy’s eyes to Billy’s mouth, oh, _fuck_ — “You don’t smell like an ashtray.”

“…Thank you?”

“No, I mean—it’s just… Did you stop smoking?”

“Hopper confiscated my cigarettes.”

“Why didn’t you just buy another pack?”

Billy purses his lips. They haven’t moved out of each other’s personal space. “I made a promise,” he decides to say. “I’ve been shit at keeping promises, but… I’m three days into this one.”

“G… good. Good for you,” Steve says, offering a slightly awkward smile. “That shit gives you wrinkles anyway.”

“Even if I had wrinkles I’d still have the prettiest face in Indiana,” Billy says, smirking. For a moment he thinks Steve is going to agree with him. For a moment he thinks Steve is going to…

“L-let—let me make all this up to you,” Steve stammers, finally stepping out of the way, putting some space between them. Billy _aches_. “Next time you’re off, I’ll drive all of us into the city and we can do something fun with the girls. I’ll pay for everything. You don’t have to drop a dime. Sound good?”

Billy nods. Billy fucking _aches_.

Fuck, he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this. He wasn’t going to get all hot and bothered over Steve-fucking-Harrington, not _again_. It had tortured him enough in high school. He doesn’t need that shit now. He’s not… _like that_. He _isn’t_. He needs to be _normal_ because Katie needs a normal dad and a normal life. Billy’s supposed to fall in love with some girl and let her be Katie’s mom because Katie’s actual mom ditched her end of the deal. There are plenty of moms in the PTA that are itching to get in his pants so it should be easy, but it isn’t.

He’s been thinking about Steve a lot lately.

 _A lot_.

Even when he’s not supposed to. Even when he tries not to. He thinks about Steve as much as he yearns for a cigarette.

It’s not okay.

“Next weekend should be good, probably, but I’ll check with Hop,” Billy says, words feeling clogged in his throat.

Hannah is unable to bear waiting anymore and has come back out. She sees Steve and instantly lights up. “Daddy!” she cries, running into his arms. All of the exhaustion instantly vanishes from Steve the moment he sees her.

Billy watches, aches, and thinks.

_I am so fucked._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://some-radical-notion.tumblr.com).


End file.
